A Broken Jar
by mamamantis
Summary: Sollux Captor is a talented paranormal investigator - but when a particularly tough case forces him to seek the aid of leading paranormal expert Rose Lalonde, he finds himself on the brink of insanity as the two are almost immediately embroiled in rivalry and contempt. Can the two of them work together to take down dangerous ghosts, or will they take each other down first?
1. Prologue

Sometimes he woke in the coldest part of the night, panting, clutching his chest or his head. Times like that, he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep. Trying would only make it worse. So instead he'd sit quietly in the dark, watching the numerous LEDs in his room twinkling like half-hearted stars, and wait for his heart to lazily make its way down his throat to its rightful position.

One would think that with these night terrors plaguing him three, sometimes four times a week, he'd be used to it. But he never adjusted. Not ever. And when the middle of the night screamed names that filled him with guilt and fear, he didn't have a choice but to come running.

February 22nd was one of those nights, and at 2:02 am Sollux found himself grasping at the sheets, gulping down cold, dry air. As soon as he was calmer, when he had realized that he was in his own bed, he leaned back against the headboard and recited the names of the dead.

He stayed like that for a long time before blindly groping for his phone on the bedside table. 2:20 am. 3 new emails, 7 chat notifications. He tapped his Pesterchum application, blinking at the bright opening animation, and slid his glasses up his long nose. The usual.

CarcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering TwinArmageddons [TA] at [12:21:12 AM]

CG: HEY.

CG: WILL YOU PLEASE READ THAT BOOK KANAYA GAVE YOU?

CG: SHE WON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT IT. APPARENTLY WHOEVER WROTE IT IS HAVING SOME BOOK SIGNING OR SOME SHIT. SHE WANTS SOMEONE TO GO WITH, AND SHE KNOWS YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S INTERESTED IN THAT KIND OF CRAP.

CG: IN FACT, SCRATCH THAT. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO READ IT. READ THE FUCKING WIKIPEDIA ARTICLE FOR ALL I CARE. JUST DISPLAY SOME KIND OF UNDERSTANDING OF WHATEVER SLOP DRIPS FROM THOSE PAGES SO THAT YOU CAN GET HER OFF MY BACK.

CG: HOW ARE YOU ALREADY ASLEEP?

CG: SHOULDN'T YOU BE PLAYING WORLD OF WARCRAFT OR MINESWEEPER OR SOMETHING AT THIS POINT?

CG: OKAY, WHATEVER. WHEN YOU GET THIS, PLEASE JUST TELL ME YOU'RE GOING TO READ IT. SHE'S STARTED ASKING EVERY FUCKING TIME I GET ONLINE.

CarcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering TwinArmageddons [TA] at [01:07:22]

Sollux sighed and set his phone down, clicking on his bedside lamp so he could give the book sitting beside it a scornful glance. _Beyond: Connecting With the Further Ring and Other Supernatural Realms. Rose Lalonde._ He picked the book up in one spindly hand and turned it over, his eyes roving over the solemn, black-and-white author's picture.

"Pff. What a crackpot," he murmured under his breath. He'd skimmed the first chapter when Karkat had couriered the tome to him, seeing as the subject matter _did _seem interesting, but he'd abandoned the book in disgust as soon as he realized the methods Lalonde supported. Séances, Ouija boards – even crystal balls, for god's sake. It was a load of drivel.

He opened to a random page, chewing idly on his lip.

_The important thing to note, _the passage began, _is that there are certain entities that may not want to be contacted – and if that is the case, you should refrain from doing so, even if you possess the ability. This is especially important to note this in cases in which you, the summoner or communicant, are emotionally invested in the entity. The void changes things. The entity you are attempting to contact may not be the person it was before it died. In cases like this, it can be incredibly difficult to resist making unwise contact – but it is a difficulty that must be overcome._

He exhaled slowly and put the book back. Such bullshit. It was obvious that the author was some sort of new-age hippie madwoman, pulling sparkly nonsense directly out of her ass. He was a _scientist._

The young man rolled back over in bed, yanking the covers all the way up to the neatly trimmed patch of orange on his narrow chin. The dead didn't change – he was sure of that. That was the whole point. That was why he did what he did.

If what he was looking for was always changing, what would be the point of searching?


	2. Chapter 1

GrimAuxilatrix [GA] began pestering TwinArmageddons [TA] at [7:45:02 AM]

GA: Sollux

Sollux stirred slowly, groaning. Milky light was filtering in through the thin curtains, lifting the shadows from a long, blurred rectangle across his bed. He flinched when his phone beeped again and slapped at his bedside table a few times. He fell still when each wild blow failed to bring his palm in contact with the device, grumbling a curse into the pillows at the third beep.

GA: Sollux Are You Awake

GA: Karkat Assured Me That You Have Agreed To Read The Book And Accompany Me To Miss Lalondes Book Signing

GA: It Has Been Three Days Since This Assurance Was Delivered To Me

GA: Which I Assume Is Enough Time For You To Have Finished

He finally mustered up the energy to drag himself forward a few inches, giving himself the reach necessary to grab his cell phone. After fumbling with the unlock screen, he tapped out a few quick lines of text.

TA: yeah, ii read iit, but iit wa2 2tupiid.

GA: What Do You Mean Stupid

GA: It Was Inspired

TA: yeah okay, you might have thought 2o

TA: but youre not a paranormal iinve2tiigator, are you?

GA: No I Am Not A Paranormal Investigator

TA: well, as a real paranormal iinve2tiigator, and a damn good one, ii can tell you that that book ii2 full of 2hiit.

GA: Couldnt You Have At Least Appreciated That It Was Well Written

TA: no.

The redhead hopped out of bed, taking his phone with him. The chat notification sounded again, but he didn't check until he had inserted a toothbrush firmly into his mouth.

GA: Well Will You Still Come To The Book Signing With Me

TA: ii gue22 ii can think about iit.

GA: The Book Signing Is Tomorrow

GA: Think Harder

GrimAuxilatrix [GA] ceased pestering TwinArmageddons [TA] at [7:52:02 AM]

Sollux rolled his eyes and finished brushing his teeth. He was working a case, so he doubted he'd have time to go to the event even if he wanted to. After shrugging on a two-toned shirt and jeans and swapping out a mismatched pair of studs, he headed out the door of his small apartment.

His van was parked in the far corner of the lot. Only the first four seats were in position – the back half of the van had been cleared out to make room for all his equipment. A multitude of cameras, both video and still, took up the majority of the space, along with boxes of different film types for the analog cameras. Lenses to filter out different kinds of light took up another box, as did a few floodlights and heavy-duty flashlights. He had EMF meters, infrasound monitoring equipment, Geiger counters, ion meters … Motion sensors, trigger cameras, thermal sensors, pressure pads – the van looked as though it belonged to someone who couldn't decide whether they were trying to protect a museum or rob it. (And also believed that said museum was haunted.)

After a quick check to make sure he had all his equipment, he carefully placed his laptop into the passenger seat, then jumped behind the wheel. A few exhausting minutes of jerky traffic and even jerkier drivers later, he found himself at his destination, 516 Midnight Way.

516 Midnight Way was a large apartment complex that took up most of the block. It used to be an estate known as the Felt Manor in the 20s and 30s, but after the local law enforcement cracked down on organized crime and the Felt went belly up, the manor was marked for demolition. However, demolition simply never happened, and sometime in the 70s the manor was bought by a wealthy investor, gutted, and turned into a set of adjoining duplexes and condos.

Sollux straightened his collar and walked up to the door of the duplex indicated in his email printout. A few moments after he rang the bell, a short, plump, pretty woman with curly blonde hair opened the door. "Hello? Oh, you must be Mr. Captor!"

"Yes, I am. And you're Miss Josephine Paint?" His soft lisp made a mess of the sentence.

"Mhmm! Mr. Slick lives in the flat above me. We've both been having problems with … well, with what we think is a haunting." Ms. Paint smoothed out her colorful skirt fitfully. "Oh, please come in! I'll make you some tea and we can talk about what's been going on."

She leaned over as Sollux crossed the threshold and pressed a button on the intercom panel built into the wall. "Spades, dear, the nice ghost hunter boy is here! Why don't you come down and say hello?"

"I'm – I'm not a 'ghost hunter,' I'm a paranormal investi-" Sollux's fussy correction was drowned out by a aggressive voice from the intercom.

"I ain't coming down there to talk to some crazy-ass ghost hunter kid!"

"Paranormal investigator," Sollux whispered.

Ms. Paint gave a breezy shrug and led Sollux over to her small, brightly decorated sitting room. Each wall was painted a different bright, pastel color, and small knick-knacks littered the surfaces and shelves. "Please, sit down! I'll get us some tea –"

"I really don't need any tea, Ms. Paint, I'd just like to do my j-"

"No no no, tea time! You sit right down and I'll –"

"Ms. Paint, please –"

She was already gone. Sollux sank down in the chair, massaging his temples wearily. He had a feeling this was going to be one of _those _jobs. A good eight out of ten times, the people who hired him didn't actually have a ghost problem, and maybe two out of those eight times, they didn't even _think _ they had a ghost problem – they were just desperately lonely. Ms. Paint seemed to fit pretty neatly into that category.

"Here we are!" She bustled back into the room with a tea tray, then sat down on the couch opposite him. The tiny woman paused to adjust her striped pink hair scarf before speaking. "Alright. Down to business, then, right?"

"Please," Sollux muttered.

"Alright, well … hm. You see, we've been having all sorts of very troubling experiences here! Things that really don't have any other explanation – at least not that I can tell." She took a dainty sip of her tea. "For example, it started with my knick knacks and things falling off the shelves and breaking, or being rearranged when I was out and about …"

Sollux looked around the room. He doubted someone would be able to walk around the room more than once without knocking _something_ off the overstuffed shelves. "Uhm … anything more concrete than that, ma'am?"

"Well, Mr. Slick's certainly heard things, and been very upset about it. I hear him yelling things up there sometimes, and he goes on and on about 'this damn house.'" A sudden, loud bang was heard through the ceiling, and Sollux looked up as a muffled string of curses filtered through the plaster and drywall. He had a feeling that the other tenant of the duplex would be yelling about "this damn house" no matter where he lived.

"Oh!" Ms. Paint suddenly exclaimed, interrupting his train of thought. "And something else happened the other day! I took a picture of it. It was so strange." She got up and fetched a small handbag, then fished a digital camera out of it. "I was baking cookies for Mr. Slick, and I got up for a moment to answer the door … and when I came back, this is what I found."

She handed him the camera, and he flicked through the last few pictures. His eyes narrowed behind his multi-colored lenses.

The pictures were various angles, some blurrier than others, of the kitchen counter. A thin layer of flour coated everything – and in the flour were crooked but very distinct numbers. The same numbers, in fact, written over and over again.

_12 13 1213 12 13 13 12 13 12 12 13 13 131 2 12 12131 21 212 12 13 13 12 13 12…_

"Ms. Paint, do you think it's possible that Mr. Slick did this?" Sollux murmured softly as he flipped back and forth through the photos.

"Oh, no, dear. Like I said, I only got up to answer the door, and I was just signing for a parcel – it couldn't have taken more than a minute or two. Besides, Mr. Slick has a prosthetic leg. He can't get up and down the stairs very well … I would have heard him loud and clear if he was coming down, let alone down the stairs, to the kitchen, and back up again!"

"Hm." Sollux took the memory card out of the camera and held it up between two fingers. "Is it alright if I keep these pictures to examine more closely later?"

"Of course, whatever you need."

He tucked the card into his laptop case and unfolded himself from the couch, his long, spindly legs seeming to extend as he got to his feet. "I'm going to do a preliminary sweep of the house with some of my basic equipment, and then we'll determine whether or not I'm going to set up some equipment in the house overnight, okay?"

"Alright." She reached out and grabbed his hand suddenly, clasping it in both of hers. Her hands were small and warm. "Thank you so much for this, Mr. Captor."

"Uh." He pulled his hand away quickly, turning away. "You're welcome, I guess."

The next hour and a half was spent combing the flat. He took multiple pictures of every room, both digital and analog and videotaped everything. After that, he took an electromagnetic field meter through the flat.

"Ms. Paint?" Sollux paused in the kitchen, holding the meter near the oven. The display read 5.0. "Was this oven here when you moved in?"

"Oh, yes. I'm not sure if it's original to the building itself, but everything in the house has been here for a long time."

"Mhmm…" He straightened up again and walked to the other end of the counter. The meter dropped to 0.1, then suddenly spiked again as he hovered it over an egg timer. "What about this egg timer?"

"I bought that at a rummage sale for the building! You know, it used to be this great big house, and they still have all these vintage things from the twenties. Any of the things that weren't valuable enough to give to museums were sold to residents." She poked her head into the kitchen quizzically. "Why, dear? Do you think they're important?"

"They're giving off high EMF readings," he muttered. He didn't bother to explain what that meant, instead moving back into the sitting room. "Okay, here's what I'm going to do. It looks like there's at least enough evidence here for me to leave some voice recorders and maybe a video camera here overnight. It seems like the activity, if there is any, is concentrated on the kitchen. I'll come back tomorrow and take the recordings home, then get back to you if anything comes up."

"That sounds like a wonderful plan! Thank you so much." Ms. Paint beamed at him, and he gave a pained, forced smile in return. "Oh, and in the meantime, I'll try to communicate with the spirits," she added eagerly.

Sollux raised his eyebrows. "Communicate? What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, well, you see, when I realized it was a haunting I went out and purchased this book ..." She turned around and pulled a book off the shelf, then held it out to him. "It has tips for contacting _the other side. _Maybe it would help your investigation if you could talk to them!"

Sollux took the book from her, then almost immediately shoved it back.

_Beyond: __Connecting With the Further Ring and Other Supernatural Realms. Rose Lalonde._

"Uh … I really don't think you're going to find that book helpful, ma'am." He hefted his bag of equipment over his shoulder, then turned to step outside. "I'll get those cameras set up now."

As soon as he was finished and had successfully warded off Ms. Paint's offers of more tea and cookies, he got back into his van and checked his phone. More Pesterchum notifications.

GrimAuxilatrix [GA] began pestering TwinArmageddons [TA] at [12:10:23 PM]

GA: Sollux

GA: If You Don't Come With Me I Will Be Forced To Invite Vriska

GA: That Is An Option That I Would Really Rather Not Consider

GA: Do You Know What Happened The Last Time I Invited Vriska To An Event With Me

GA: She Spat On The Leading Lady Of Tosca

GA: She Spat On Her Sollux

GA: She Has Been Permanently Banned From The Opera House

GA: I Do Not Wish To Repeat That Experience

Sollux groaned and put his seatbelt on, intending to deal with this before heading home.

TA: GA why are you 2o worriied about thii2 book 2iigniing anyway.

TA: you 2ound liike youre goiing two pii22 your2elf.

GA: I Would Like To Make A Good Impression On Miss Lalonde

GA: My Understanding Is That Arriving To An Event Alone Implies That One Is

GA: Square

TA: okay fiir2t off, nobody 2ay2 2quare

TA: 2econdly maybe that would be true iif you were goiing two a concert or 2omethiing, but iif youre at 2ome lame book 2iigniing youre goiing two look liike a dork no matter what.

GA: So You Would Be Right At Home

TA: ii dont need your 2a22, GA.

He paused for a moment. Ms. Paint would be trying whatever crackpot theories were discussed in that book, and for all he knew, that kind of stuff could cripple his investigation. Sure, he read the book himself, but he hadn't really been paying all that much attention in the first place. Maybe …

TA: okay lii2ten, iill go.

GA: Really

TA: ye2. but only becau2e ii have a client who ii2 readiing iit and ii want two be able two tell her that ii met the author and confiirmed that 2he iis a total lunatiic.

GA: Miss Lalonde Is Not A Lunatic She Is A Visionary

TA: oh my god. iim 2o done. just be ready for me two piick you up at ten twomorrow.

TwinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering GrimAuxilatrix [GA] at [1:30:22 PM]

Sollux leaned back in his chair for a moment, scowling. This was just not going to be his week. Hopefully this job would at least turn out to be interesting. Investigations were the only thing that really made him happy. Being alone with his equipment, clicking methodically through the scientific method, peace and quiet and computers. That was what he needed, and he wasn't going to let some wannabe psychic ruin that for him.


	3. Chapter 2

[[ AN: Hey guys! I know it's been a while since this fic updated and I hope to avoid a gap as long as that one in the future. Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites! That stuff keeps me going. I really welcome your comments about the characterization and stuff, including suggestions and criticism!

Also, I wanted to let you all know that I do occasionally post illustrations and other supplementary material for this fic. If you'd like to see it, go ahead and pm me and I will give you the link!]]

There came a point, nestled somewhere amid the long days of a regional book tour, when all the bookstores began to look the same. Rose Lalonde had not yet reached that point, and to her, the bookstore she currently sat in was charmingly offbeat.

The string of fans had been slow but steady – a trickle that toed the line between vaguely flattering and disappointing.

Her agent had warned her about the expected turnout, to be fair. _"Why don't you just write a sequel to __Complacency of the Learned__?" _she'd insisted. _"There's a very limited audience for non-fiction of this genre, Rose. A niche audience. People love to read about this stuff, sure – but in the context of fantasy. Not enough people actually believe in it."_

But she'd insisted. Complacency of the Learned had been important, of course, but she couldn't really rest until Beyond was written and published. Perhaps, she mused, she was hoping the sales would convince her that she wasn't alone.

She let that train of thought die quickly as she greeted the next fan in line. She accepted his copy of the book in her small, slender hands – so uncanny, still, to see her own face staring back at her from the back cover – and deftly flicked it open.

"Hello, Miss Lalonde! I have to say, I'm not usually big on ghosts and things, but I really enjoyed your book…"

"Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. To whom may I make this out?"

"Uhm, just to 'They Mayor,' please!"

She obliged, inscribing the front page with neat, tight cursive in violet ink. "Thank you for coming." As she returned the tome, the small bell affixed to the door of the bookshop chimed, and a shaft of sunlight was thrown across the floor, brushing lightly against the edge of her desk. Two people entered, bickering quietly.

"You said you would come to collect me at ten o' clock in the morning. You did not arrive until noon at the very earliest and now we are incredibly late –"

"Are you kidding me, GA? First of all, it's not even a thing you can be late for, it runs from ten to one. And secondly I sent you a message on pesterchum explaining I would be late, so I don't even know what you're all worked up about –"

Rose craned her neck in interest. A petite young woman with dark skin, her heart-shaped face framed by an intricately embroidered, jade-green hijab, with a tall, gangly redhead leaning over to hiss combatively at her. They struck an interesting contrast – the woman was all graceful curves, with her clothing obviously chosen with a careful eye and draped in such a way as to perfectly complement her shape. The man, on the other hand, was all elbows and prickly, inward-focused energy, with some sort of awful striped shirt and tacky 3D glasses. She kept her eyes on them as she absentmindedly signed the copies of the people in front of them.

When the pair finally reached the front of the line, she had a better chance to sweep her eyes over them appraisingly. The male obviously didn't want to be there – slumped posture, averted gaze, the corner of his nose pulling upwards just the _slightest _bit in contempt and annoyance. Rose smirked.

"Hello. I very much enjoyed your book and I was hoping you wouldn't mind signing this copy for me." The woman's speech was crisp and careful, almost stilted. Rose accepted her copy and flicked it open, running her fingers over the endpaper to flatten it.

"And to whom may I make this out?"

"Kanaya Maryam, please. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Here you are." Rose snapped the book shut crisply and looked up at the man, then down to the copy of the book he held in his bony hand. The spine barely looked cracked. "And for you?"

"I didn't come to get the book signed." He had a sibilant lisp, pronounced but not comical. It was obvious that his effort to conceal his disinterest was merely cursory. "I'm just with her."

Rose's smirk tightened a notch. "As long as you're here, though, it can't hurt." She swiftly slipped the book from between his fingers and flattened it on the table. "To?"

He said nothing, seemingly stunned by her quick maneuver. His companion rolled her eyes and spoke up for him. "Sollux Captor. I'm afraid I don't know why he's being so difficult – he does the same thing you do."

"I do not," Sollux hissed softly.

"An author, Mr. Captor?"

"A ghost hunter."

"A _paranormal investigator_, GA."

"I see." Rose checked behind them – no one else in line. Perfect. "And could I hope that my book has helped you at all in your line of work?"

Kanaya gave him a warning look that was thoroughly ignored. "Nope."

"I'm sorry to hear that. And why not?"

Kanaya whipped her head around to glare at him, her face strained. Sollux flicked his glasses up out of his eyes with one finger, revealing one blue eye and one that was curiously clouded over. "Because it's all superstitious nonsense, honestly."

"Sollux! Miss Lalonde, I'm very sorry -"

"No, no, it's alright." Rose leaned forward languidly, resting her chin in her hand. "Could I trouble you for a more specific critique, Mr. Captor? Have you actually tried the methods outlined in my book?"

"I – of course not. I have proven methods."

"Proven? How proven can something really be when one is discussing the spirits of the dead, Mr. Captor?"

Sollux leaned forward, planting his hands firmly on the table. A few customers around the perimeter of the small shop had stopped to stare. "I'm a scientist, okay?" Rose had to stop herself from snorting at the way his speech impediment manipulated the word. "I use scientific equipment. I measure. I collect data."

"As do I."

"Sollux, there's someone behind us now."

"No, you don't _collect data_, you-"

"Sollux, dear! How funny to see you here!"

The young man turned rapidly, and Rose watched, amused, as he greeted a short, plump woman standing in line behind him. "Ms. Paint? I didn't know you were going to be here …"

"Yes, I thought I'd come get my copy signed as long as she was in town! I'm surprised to see you, too, I thought you weren't the greatest fan of her work…" The woman suddenly bustled forward, grabbing Rose's hand in a robust, warm handshake. "How do you do! I'm Josephine Paint. It's so funny, Sollux here is actually currently investigating my home!" She glanced around surreptitiously, as if assuming others were eavesdropping. "You see, it's _haunted."_

"I see." Rose broke away from the handshake and shot Sollux a pointed look. "And you believe Mr. Captor can help you with that?"

"You aren't in any position to question my competence," he mumbled bitterly under his breath.

Blissfully unaware of the quiet vitriol being spat between the two, Ms. Paint beamed. "Now, this may be a little presumptuous of me, and I know you must be busy – but I'd be so honored if you could stop by, perhaps even for just a few minutes, to sort of … gauge the aura of the place, you know? I think that would be so exciting! A second opinion, you know –"

"Actually I normally don't let anyone but the homeowners interfere with the space once I've begun an investigation-" Sollux attempted to interject.

"I would love to do that, Ms. Paint." Though she was addressing her statement to the woman, Rose kept her gaze fixed coolly on Sollux. "Say tomorrow evening? After dinner, I think."

"That would be wonderful! Goodness, this is so exciting."

Rose's violet-stained lips curled upwards in the smirk of a victorious grandmaster. "Thrilling."


End file.
